But the care of Malachi was never granted to the woman who spent months attempting to save him from suspected torture and abuse.
A year ago today, 5-year-old Malachi lay on a bed at Starship Hospital and succumbed to brain injuries suffered at the hands of his carer, Michaela Barriball.
Over the final months of his life, he was beaten, burnt and thrown against walls, culminating in a final beating on November 1 last year. His life support was switched off 11 days later.
Much has been said about the horrors the innocent child faced, and the monumental failings of state agency Oranga Tamariki in responding to concerns raised about the child's welfare while he was being looked after by his mother's friend while she was in prison.
But for Malachi's aunt and cousin who desperately fought to save him, as the family marks a year on from his death, the most important story to tell is who Malachi was.
The kindest kid in the room
Three years ago as an active three-year-old, Malachi visited his grandmother for the first time. She passed in 2001, buried at a plot in Waipukurau. He visited the grave with his mother, stepdad and aunt.
He didn't completely grasp the idea of death, but seemingly knew what grief was.
"It was a real emotional thing for both me and Malachi's mum. He saw that and pulled us into a hug," his aunt Selena remembers.
''It will be okay'' he told them, holding his mum and aunt in his grip.
For Selena, it's a memory that defines the nature of the boy.
"He was real caring, you know. It didn't matter whatever it was that he was doing, if you went up to him and spoke to him he always took time to respond. He was always just so kind."
Of the family members that contributed to this story, all of them refer to Malachi's kindness, but most memorably, his cheekiness.
"He would always take my sunglasses and wear them, if they were lying on the table or on the couch or even on my head, he would just come over and take my sunglasses and put them on."
A memorable incident with Malachi's shoes remains a source of laughter. His mum had just purchased a new pair of expensive branded sneakers for the then 4-year-old.
"And I told her whatever you do, don't let him wear them to kindy because you're going to pick him up in the afternoon and they're going to be wrecked."
The advice was sound. Malachi's mum arrived at kindy, and had to go hunting in the sandpit for the freshly buried sneakers.
"He was never naughty, just very, very cheeky. He made all of us laugh."
Malachi's stepdad fondly remembers the boy copying his gym routines. An adorable video shows Malachi, stomach on the ground, completing 10 push-ups as his family cheers him on.
"He was really bubbly. He just loved to copy me," the stepdad said.
But Malachi's most obvious passion could have seen him give a palaeontologist a run for their money.
"He could name just about every dinosaur there ever was," cousin Emma* remembers.
"He would think it was real funny if you didn't know what dinosaur he was talking about. For him, he thought if I know, the adults must know too."
Reading through picture books or watching TV, Malachi would get excited at any mention or image of a dino, and he'd know exactly which one it was, too.
"He was just so clever."
'It's impossible to grieve'
A year on from his death, the rawness of the grief has been near impossible for some members of the whānau to process, in the knowledge so many questions about the circumstances of his death are yet to be answered.
An Oranga Tamariki investigation into the agency's failings remains ongoing.
Due to Covid-19 restrictions at the time Malachi was in hospital, both Selena and Emma were forced to say goodbye to him via a video call.
"On a personal level it was so hard to process. Four months prior our dad [and Malachi's grandad] had passed away, right? As a family, we were grieving the loss of our dad and grandad, and then four months later, it was another blow."
Emma remembers trying to support the family over the 11 days, knowing the prognosis wasn't promising.
"I kind of still had hope and I was trying to keep the hope alive, but at the same time, prepare [the family] because I saw what the doctors had written."
"It was even harder knowing that at home, we had everything ready for him. It was heartbreaking."
The extensive media coverage has also been difficult, but understandable they say.
"Reading all the articles that were made and as new information was released, it was hard. But then at the same time, what happened before he died needs to be shared."
For the whānau in the coming months, all eyes will be squarely fixed on the outcome of Oranga Tamariki's investigation into the death, and what the agency plans on doing to prevent a similar tragedy from ever occurring again.
But for now, their thoughts are focused solely on Malachi's memory - the boy that should still be here today.
*Some names have been changed to protect identities.